


The Walk of Shame

by toesohnoes



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-21
Updated: 2012-04-21
Packaged: 2017-11-04 02:18:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesohnoes/pseuds/toesohnoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve wakes up in Loki's bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Walk of Shame

**Author's Note:**

> Written at my [Tumblr](http://toestastegood-fic.tumblr.com/post/21219213661/when-steve-wakes-up-in-the-morning-hes-tempted).

When Steve wakes up in the morning, he’s tempted to stay in bed - the only thing that stops him is that it isn’t his bed. The sheets are too soft and smooth against his bare skin, and when he peers around the room to find it huge and lavish he is reminded of all that had happened the night before.

He could do with a very long shower, but first of all he has to get out of this place. It’s a matter of survival as much as anything. Last night, Loki had been accommodating and charming - he had lowered Steve’s defences and talked him into bed, before he spent the night exploring Steve’s body and leaving him weak and panting. In the harsh light of day, it is very likely that Loki will not be feeling nearly so lenient. Steve doesn’t know whether a smile or a death trap will be waiting for him when he leaves this room.

If Loki wanted him dead, he could have done it while Steve was sleeping - yet Steve doesn’t think that that is Loki’s style. If Loki is anything like his brother, then he still believes in honour. He would want to look Steve in the eyes as he defeat him.

He leaves the relative safety of the bed, but he can’t find his clothes. In the rush of sensations from the night before, he seems to have lost them - but, folded neatly on an antique chair near the bed, he finds a new set waiting for him. Since the alternative would be to wander around without a stitch, Steve swallows his pride and pulls them on. Neatly tailored and exactly his size, they seem like the kind of thing that Tony would wear, not him.

He wishes he had his shield as he creeps down the stairs, hugging the walls. Every creak is far too loud; every heart-beat could be his last. He can’t hear anyone else. He strains his ears for the faintest sound, because this is too easy. The front door is right in front of him. The coast is clear.

He starts to walk towards it, when he hears a throat clear behind him. “I made coffee,” Loki says. Steve turns around to find him holding two mugs in his hands. “I’m told it’s popular in Midgard.”

He holds out one of the mugs for Steve. Steve feels as if he’s still dreaming as he reaches out to take it. It can’t be poisoned. Most poisons wouldn’t work on his metabolism, and it doesn’t seem like Loki’s style. He still can’t quite make himself take a drink.

“Were you going to slip away without a word?” Loki asks, although the glint in his eyes says that he already knows the answer. He edges closer to Steve, even while Steve tenses and prepares to fight. All Loki seems interested in is invading his personal space, pressing the lithe line of his body against Steve until they share the same air. “I was hoping you might stick around.”

He ghosts his lips against Steve’s mouth, a reminder of all that they had done together the night before. Steve breathes through his nose, able to smell the coffee wafting through the air, as he stares into the eyes of a psychopathic demi-god. He needs to get out of here before Loki changes his mind and kills him.

All he does is cock his head. “I’ve got time,” he offers.

Loki silences him with a bitter-coffee kiss. The mugs are cold by the time they are done.


End file.
